Stolen
by aBeautifulLiar
Summary: She had been stolen from him during the war, so cruelly snatched from right under his eyes, and then two years later she turns up on his doorstep once more. What's happened to her and can he help her through it? Ron/Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the actual storyline; everything else belongs to J.K Rowling. **

**~ Stolen ~**

Ron sighed when he heard the door knock gently, slowly getting up from his seat as he put down the drink he had been holding in his hand. He frowned, wondering who could possibly call to see him at three in the morning – then again, he thought, Harry didn't know his limits since the war.

The rain was falling heavily, and he had been relying on the lightening flashes as his only source of light for the past few hours as he had sat in the sitting room, thinking back on life before everything seemed to go wrong.

He bit down on his lower lip, feeling in his back pocket for his trusty wand as he approached the door – he knew he was being stupid, anyone who could have been a danger to him wouldn't have bothered to knock the door but he had to be careful. He tried to think about who could be on the other side of the door as he slowly opened it, staring at the girl on the other side, getting ready to slam the door in her face.

He took in her appearance for a moment; she was tiny – in height and width. Her long hair was matted and dirty, completely drenched from the heavy rain as it hung over her shoulders. Her head hung low as she looked down at her bare, cut and bloody feet as Ron looked at the one garment she was wearing that was soaked through to the skin – an old, dirty dress that looked as though it hadn't been washed in years.

Ron gasped when she finally looked up at him, their eyes meeting; piercing blue eyes mixing with chocolate brown. She noticed him looking at her, a small blush creeping onto her pale, bruised and cut face. She quickly turned away and murmured an apology as the realization suddenly came over Ron and he shook his head, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him.

He felt her shaking beneath his grip as he shut the door behind them, tilting her chin up to look at him, "H-Hermione?" She nodded a little as he too one more look down at her terribly thin body as it trembled from fear and the cold. He sighed, and then pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her as tears dripped down her face.

"I-I d-didn't know where else t-t-to go.." She stammered, sobbing into his shirt, her shaking fingers clinging onto his shirt as though it was a lifeline. Before Ron could open his mouth, she carried on, "I-I-I c-can g-go.. if y-you want.." He shook his head quickly, panic rising at the thought of losing her again.

"I don't want you to go, please don't leave me again.." He whispered, tears forming in his own eyes as he wrapped his arms around her once more, closing his eyes as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall down his face. "Do you want anything to eat?" He finally asked, trying to run through everything she could possibly need. She nodded slowly, biting her lip – something he knew she only did when she was nervous.

Ron nodded too, taking her hand in his and leading her to the kitchen she knew so well, quickly making her something to eat. He watched her eat, wondering how long it had been since she had last eaten something. He sighed, brushing her hair gently from her face, wondering if he should call someone – the ministry, Harry, call for his parents upstairs. Anyone, or wait until she was cleaned and sleeping.

"How about we get you cleaned up?" He offered, smiling a little when she nodded slowly as she stood up from the table. She tried to force a small smile onto her face as she followed him upstairs, looking down when tears found their way down her face instead.

She watched him as he ran her a bath; glad for the chance to finally get clean and feel somewhat like the old Hermione. Ron turned to face her and slowly helped her life the torn dress she was wearing, up over her head. He winced at the sight of the bruises, and deep cuts that covered her entire body – some fully healed, others fresh.

He could see the pain in her eyes as he shook his head, lightly tracing some of the bruises with his fingers, a lone tear falling from his blue eyes and down his now pale cheek. She shuddered under his touch, but she didn't flinch away – she knew Ron would never hurt her. She had clung to that thought for so long.

She smiled gratefully as he lifted her up into the warm bath, sighing in relief at the feel of the water – she hadn't washed in so long. She frowned as the clean water quickly turned brown, a stark reminder of how long it had actually been since she was given the chance to wash.

Ron watched her, kissing her gently on the forehead, walking out to find something for her to wear, sighing as he closed the bathroom door behind him as more tears fell down his face, trying to grasp the fact that she was actually here. It had been two whole years since he saw her, two whole years since the war and two years of pain and loneliness. He bit down his lip before walking to his parents room, taking a deep breath before knocking the door.

"Mom? Dad?" He walked in as they sat up, looking at him, rubbing the sleep from their eyes; "she's here.." He whispered, smiling a little as he said it, the smile only growing when he saw the pleasure on their faces.

After a while of explaining everything to them, he knocked on the bathroom door, slowly going in to hand her one of his T-shirts. She smiled at him before putting it on, glad to get out of the clothes she had been wearing for two years now. He led her into his bedroom, smiling wide when she picked up the photograph that Harry had taken of them before the war had ever began. "You still have this?" She whispered, almost to herself, tracing the smile on her face back then; she had changed so much and she hated herself for it.

Hermione looked up at Ron as he nodded, "I just hung onto the hope that you would come back, and here you are." She nodded and put it back down, looking at him before sitting on his bed. "Y-You've changed a lot since then.." He frowned, sitting down next to her, pretending not to notice the pain in her eyes when she said it.

"I can't believe you're nineteen," He said, laughing a little as he laced his fingers through her, she nodded a little, "You look amazing.." She blushed a dark shade of red as she looked at him, as he flicked back his red hair, grinning. "I get that a lot." She smiled and nodded,

"There's that ego I always loved." He smiled and nodded, before softly kissing her lips, biting his lip as she pulled away, looking down, "Had many girlfriends then?" She tried to casually put the question in, dreading the answer,

"None.. how could you even think that?" She looked at him again, muttering an apology as she looked down at her feet dangling over the edge of the bed;

"I would never do that to you, Hermione. I tried to imagine my life without you and.. damn it, it was impossible. I tried to move on, people just kept telling me that you were... gone.. for good.. but I could never believe that. I clung onto the hope that you were out there and you were alive. I keep looking at that photograph and the various other ones we have and wondering when you were going to come back to me so I could you again." She looked up at him, wiping the tears from her face as she rested her head in the crook of his neck.

"Y-you were the only thing that kept me going, I just kept thinking to myself that one day I was going to see you again and then everything would be okay.. everything would be better again because you're the only person I know that can make all the bad feelings go away."

"Am I making them go away right now?" She nodded and clung onto him, closing her eyes tight, "I love you,"

"I love you too," He whispered into her ear, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her back into to the bed, he smiled when she kept her eyes closed, finding himself hoping she wouldn't have too many nightmares tonight. He kissed her cheek before closing his own eyes, happy that she was finally safe in his arms once more – just where she belonged.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: See last chapter. **

**~ Two years before ~ **

Hermione smiled when she felt arms wrap around her waist, a small kiss being placed on her neck before his lips trailed up to her cheek. She turned around to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him softly on the lips. He grinned, pulling her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

He felt her finger curl around his hair as they both deepened the kiss, moaning in pleasure. They both pulled away for air, looking into each other's eyes – brown mixing with blue as they stared at each other. Hermione broke the eye contact first, moving her head to his shoulder, kissing his neck before closing her eyes.

He smiled when he realized how tired they both were from a day of planning, he nodded at Harry and Ginny as he slowly picked her up. Hermione yawned, her hands still in his hair as she snuggled into his shoulder a little more. Ron muttered a goodnight to his family, taking her upstairs.

"I love you," She muttered into his neck, "I love you too.." He smiled down at her, laying her on his bed as he ran his fingers through her long hair., smoothing it down gently as he lay next to her, moving his arms down to wrap around her waist.

Hermione finally opened her eyes, blushing a little before kissing him softly on the lips, smiling when he kissed back. It was their last night before they were leaving for Hogwarts, it was the last night before the war began and they both wanted to make the most of it together, wrapping their arms around each other as they closed their eyes, falling asleep quickly.

~ .. ~

Ron looked around for Hermione, calling her name loudly, he could feel his heart thumping against his chest as his breath quickened, panic rising to the surface as he carried on looking. He saw others looking for their lost loved ones, some coming across their dead bodies while others kept calling out. He looked down at the faces of those who didn't survive the war, biting his lip and wishing he'd find Hermione alive and well soon.

Running outside, he called her name once more; smiling when he finally saw her, beaten but alive. "R-Ron.." She stuttered, taking a step forward from the darkness, to reveal the person behind her, an arm around her neck, pulling her close to him.

He took a step to her, his head shaking, not knowing what to say or what to do as the man tightened his grip around her neck before apparating right in front of him. His heart thumped harder and harder against his chest, looking around for her, tears falling down his bruised and bleeding face as he tried to face the feeling that she was gone, and she might not ever be back.

~ .. ~

Hermione held her hand to her head, groaning in pain as she looked around the tiny room she had found herself in. She bit down on her lip, trying to hold back the tears at the memories of her earlier capture.

She tried to remember what happened before she ended up here, closing her eyes as she tried to think past the pain and think about what happened before; _Ron. Blood. Gone. _

She opened her eyes in shock and shook her head, she tried to tell herself that they hadn't hurt Ron, that he was going to be okay, the thoughts of him laying there dead or in pain haunting her mind as she tried her best to think of him looking for her instead.

She had tried to scream out for him when she heard him calling her name, but a rough hand had clamped over her mouth before she could, she remembered trying to fight them off as best she could but it was no good – she was weak from the war, and was already hurt. She struggled in his tight grip until Ron came into sight, she took one last look at him before they apparated and then he was gone.

She looked around the room she had woken up in, wondering where she was as she stumbled around for her wand. She took in the dark, gloomy stone walls and sighed, there was no natural light coming into the room, so she was alone in the dark, unable to do anything about it.

The metal door in front of her reminded her of the severity of this situation, and she shook her head, sitting up on the cold, hard mattress she had woken up on. She groaned loudly when she noticed the chains for the first time that bound her to the metal bed, clamping tightly around her ankles – stopping her from going anywhere, and making her feel more and more like a prisoner every second.

Hermione sighed, dropping her head back as she ignored the pain that was rushing through her body. She thought about Ron, trying to imagine what it would have been like to be cuddled up next to him al night as they talked about everything that had happened during the war, both of them eating, smiling and finally happy. She loved being alone with him, she couldn't wait for the war to end so they could be happy together.

Nothing mattered when she was with Ron, time seemed to stop when she was in his arms, other faces seemed to blur and voices faded. All that mattered was them; Ron and Hermione. She wished he was here right now, holding her in his arms and whispered into her ear, trying to tell her it would be alright, that they would get out of her, that they would be able to live through this.

But he wasn't here, she was. She was all alone and she didn't know if she could cope on this all alone, she wasn't strong enough anymore. She felt her whole body shake at the thought of the men who had stolen her away from the boyfriend, her family, the man who hadn't shown any mercy at all when she begged them to stop, whimpering that the war was over, there wasn't anything left to fight for.

~ .. ~

Ron looked around the room he found himself in, the familiar walls seeming a comfort to him as he sat up, "Hermione?" He ignored the throbbing pain that ran through his head as he looked around the room once more. If Hermione was okay, wouldn't she be sitting down next to him, holding his hand? Wouldn't she be laying in his arms asleep? If Hermione was okay, wouldn't she be here to let him know that it would be alright?

His heart started beating faster and faster, his breath becoming more and more erratic as he tried to think of all the reasons she wouldn't be next to him by now. He tried to think, maybe she was downstairs with his family? Maybe she had been forced to get some rest.

"Ron?" He looked up at Harry as the boy walked into the room, noticing the puffy eyes and the marks on his face. "Hermione?" He managed to croak out, looking at his best friend,

"She's gone.. nobody can find her anywhere." Harry looked down, sighing, not being able to help the feeling that this was all his fault.

"They took her..." He muttered the statement, closing his eyes as the memory came washing over him. He looked down at the bed covers, closing his eyes tighter as he tried to remember what happened.

"It's not your fault, Ron."

"I should have been able to save her, I could have..." Harry shook his head and moved closer to the bed, he knew it was best not to say anything, knowing how much his friend loved the girl they had both been close with for so long now.

Ron could only hope she was okay as he clung onto the hope that she was still alive and unhurt, he held the hope as tight as he could because he knew that if he let go, then she might not be okay and he had no idea how he would ever cope in a world without her. She was the only person who could make him happy, she was the only one who he felt completely comfortable around, and the person he could tell anything to. She showed him how easy it was to fall in love and she was the only one who made him love with everything he had.

He shook his head and put his head on the pillow, closing his eyes as he pretended it would all be okay, Hermione was next to him and her head was on his chest, her arms draped around his waist as he held her in his arms. Things were as they should be, she was safe and they were happy together; he could only dream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: See last chapters. **

Hermione opened her eyes to see a dark haired man standing over her with a smirk on his face, her heart jumped just a little as she tried her best to stop the scream she could feel bubbling up inside of her when her eyes settled on the wand he held pointed to her in his hand.

He smiled, moving the wand to touch her face, running it down her body causing her to shudder and look away at the blank wall across from her as hot tears ran down her face. She closed her eyes tight, gasping in shock and fear when she felt his cold hand on her thigh. She bit down on her lip and tried to think about something else, pretend like this wasn't happening.

She looked up at him, finally, and shook her head, silently pleading with him not to do this, begging him to leave her alone. She wanted her first time to be with Ron, she wanted it to be special and not with the man who had stolen her from everything and everyone she had ever loved.

She watched him slide the wand across the floor a little as he climbed onto the mattress, she shook her head again and then looked into his cold, dark eyes. There was nothing but greed and pleasure in them as he looked down at her panic and fear filled eyes. She felt the tears drip down her face one more time and she closed her eyes as tight as she possibly could.

She felt her hands push him back before she could stop herself, as he roughly grabbed her face, pulling it up to meet his lips; he kissed her hard, and she could already feel a bruise form on her lips. His stubble rubbed against her sensitive and pale skin as he tried his best to force his snake-like tongue through her pursed lips.

She thought about Ron and the way he had kissed her, as she tried to fight the man off. Ron's lips were soft and inviting, she was always left needing more when he puled away, she wanted his minty breath and silk-like lips. Not this.

This was nothing like those kisses she shared with Ron, she was happy when she kissed him but this? This was hell. She tried her best to keep her lips closed as his rough hands wandered around her body uninvited, settling on her stomach before violently and quickly ripping open the shirt she had been wearing.

"Get off her; she's not yours." They both jumped at the sound of the voice from the open door, the man nodded, sighing as he looked at Hermione one more time before getting off her and walking out the room with his head down.

Hermione looked at the new man, his black hair and piercing eyes brought back memories of the person who had brought her here. She mustered up the courage to glare at the man, turning away to look anywhere but him. She wondered if there was anyone looking for her right now, or if they had given up already.

"You could make this easier on yourself, you know." She snapped her head back up to look at him when he sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on her leg, "All you have to do is listen to us and then you won't get hurt – we don't want to hurt you." He smiled at her, shaking his head,

"If you're a good girl, you may actually get to go home one day." He sighed and stood up, taking a key from his pocket to unlock the chains on her ankles. She watched him as tears dripped down her face, "You only have to listen to me for a while, you will hopefully be sold by tonight." He smiled at her, as though he had just said the most normal thing in the world.

Hermione could feel her heart drop as she heard the word 'sold', she had read of things like this, of witches and wizards being sold off to their darker other halves. She repeated the one word over and over again, thinking about a way out of this.

Tears ran down her pale cheeks as she thought about never being able to see Ron again, before crying out in pain when the man yanked harshly on her arm to get her from the bed. She kept thinking about being sold to someone, maybe she would be lucky and they would let her go soon – maybe.

~ .. ~

Ron looked around his bedroom, heaving a deep sigh, it wasn't the same in here anymore, it was just full of memories he had with Hermione. He closed his eyes for a moment and then wondered if she was going to be okay, he wondered how long it would take yo find her – she was one of those who helped with the war, they had to find her soon. She deserved everyone's help.

He looked at the photograph that was next to his bed, that had not been taking too long ago and traced her small dimples with his fingers, running his hand over her beautiful smile and then looking at the way they held each other – it was like they knew something like this could happen. They clung to each other like they knew time could end soon.

He shuddered at the thought and put the photograph back down, focusing on something else instead. He frowned as he tried to think about something Hermione and he hadn't done in his bedroom, looking at the floor as he found her creeping into his mind once more – they had played muggle board games for hours on that floor one night.

He shook his head, looking at the walls – maybe there would be something non-Hermione related there, but there it was; on one wall there was a collage she had made with his help before the war, before they left to help Harry. It was unfinished, but there was a bit covered in photographs off the two. Each photograph was a different shape, apart from his – cut into jagged hearts because Hermione insisted they didn't use magic.

He laughed a little at the thought, shaking his head as tears ran fast down his pale face. He grabbed a lamp by his bed and chucked it across the room, watching it hit the wall and slide down with a huge smash. He turned around on his side, staring at his shaking hand. "I miss you, 'Mione," He whispered into his empty bedroom, hoping that somehow, somewhere, she would hear him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: See last chapters. **

Hermione looked around at the men in the room, biting down on her lower lip as tears trailed down her face as she looked down at the concrete floor, watching her tears hit the cold, hard floor, landing in a small plop by her bare and dirty feet.

She shivered a little as the cold air hit her and then closed her eyes, trying her best to ignore any pain, cold... anything. She looked back up at them and sighed, the four men were talking amongst themselves. "He's going to be mad," She heard one of them say as he looked over at her, staring at the large bruise on her forehead and the deep gash on her cheek. She looked down at the floor, trying to listen to the constant muttering from the men; she had to know what was going to happen.

"Look, he wanted her and we got her, okay? We'll just tell him she's a little... feisty."

"Okay... who's going to take her to him?"

"I guess two of us will have to go, just in case she tries to fight us." She snapped her head up again, was she going to be moved? She wasn't sure she had heard right. Maybe someone would see her and call the Ministry, maybe she could run and apparate back to Ron. Maybe there was _hope. _

She cried out in pain when her arms were roughly grabbed and put behind her back, she winced when she felt metal cut into her wrist, the blood already hitting the surface and dripping down onto the floor. "Don't even think about trying anything, Princess." She shuddered at the familiar voice, his breath trailed down her cheek and then a light kiss was placed on her neck. She couldn't move – through fear more than anything – she couldn't believe this was happening to her. Surely someone would see her walking out of there, surely she could get away with escaping.

She finally moved when a gag was placed over her mouth, the man tightly tying it until she could taste blood in her mouth. She longed to scream out for someone to help her, but it was impossible now. She wanted to go home, she wanted Ron, she wanted his kisses. She wanted to feel safe again.

She looked up when a man yanked her out of the door, she looked around and realized – her heart dropping when she did – they were in the middle of nowhere.

"Now listen here and listen good," He spoke up, holding her close to him, "There are some rules – rules you have to obey. Got it?" She nodded hesitantly, she didn't want to live by someone else's rules, she wanted to get out of there.

"Now then, the man who bought you, in fact.. the man who **requested **you," He put an emphasis on the word 'requested' as though she should feel happy that somebody wanted her, and he gave her a small wink. "He's strict, you'll be severely punished if you step a foot out of line. He's not there to be nice, and he's not there to protect you, he's there so you can look after him. You're there to do whatever he wants and you're going to do it – okay?" Hermione nodded again, tears glazing over her eyes.

"He's paid a lot of money for you, and my boss doesn't let people down." He sighed and put a hand on her leg, grinning, "I know it's going to be hard but this is your life, and if you're good, he may let you go at some point." She nodded once more and wished she could speak, she had so many questions;

_Why me? _

_For how long?_

_Where's Ron? Where's all my friends?_

_What did you do to Ron?_

She sighed and then felt that familiar feeling of apparating, closing her eyes tight as she tries to think about a time she was happy, before the war, or even at times when she was with Ron, when he was holding her in his arms. She thought about that kiss they shared and she thought about the strange relationship they had before – friends or lovers; neither of them were sure. She tried to think about a time when this wasn't happening, a time when she wasn't trembling with fear, a time when her imagination wasn't running wild with thoughts of what _could_ happen to her.

"He will give you clothes, you will eat what he says and you will wash when he allows you to. You won't be able to leave the mansion, and you won't be able to leave your room when he or someone else is not with you," The man carried on when she opened her eyes, recognising the mansion in front of her.

She shook with fear already, trying not to think about the last time she was here, the man continued despite the trembling girl next to him. "You will be expected to do everything for him and that could include washing him, reading to him and you will refer to him as master and you will answer to the name he gives you." She nodded again, trying to comprehend what was going on, tears slowly ran down her face as she ran through her mind what exactly what was happening.

_Her life was never going to be the same again. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: See last chapters. **

**A/N: A few of you have asked about how Ron has just sat back and not looked for Hermione – he has been looking for her, I just haven't included it in the story yet because I focused more on his feeling of loss and his sadness, rather than him looking for her. But don't worry, he is looking and I will write about it soon. **

Hermione looked at the older man in front of her and shook her head, tears ran down her cheeks as she bowed – doing as she was told – she could see the evil in his face, she had known all along just how evil this family were, but this just confirmed it even more. She knew this was never going to be easy. "Take her to her room," She heard the man say, his long blonde hair moving when the wind caught it.

He walked over to her, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She didn't dare move as she shuddered as his minty breath hit her skin, his fingers trailing down her cheekbone as he smiled, "I knew from the first time I set eyes on you, Hermione – you're perfect." He whispered in her ear, she could almost hear the smirk as he spoke.

She watched him turn around, walking away from her before she closed her eyes, as two men she had been standing next to grabbed her roughly by her arms, forcing her to cry out in pain – she knew it could only just be heard through the gag by the looks on their faces – but yet, it wasn't enough to make them stop.

Her whole body shook when she was dragged down into a cold, dark cellar, looking around as her eyes widened in shock at the five cells she saw. She shook her head, cursing herself for not realizing she wasn't the first, and she probably wouldn't be the last. She wondered where the other four girls were – did he only keep one at a time?

"This will be your room until Master Malfroy gets bored of you," One of the men smirked as he chucked her into a tiny cell, slamming the grates shut to leave her in complete darkness. She crawled slowly over to a mattress in the corner of the cell, biting down on her lip as she took the gag off. "_Until Master Malfroy gets bored of you." _She kept repeating the words over and over again in her head, what was he going to do with her when she no longer kept him entertained? Would he kill her? Or would he send her back home? Back to Ron?

She sobbed gently as she thought about him never sending her home, she was intelligent enough to know that these kind of people had no intention of sending the people home when they were done with them. She had watched enough crime programmes back home with her mother and father to know this much.

Hot tears carved their way down her face as she tried to make her way to the corner of the room, she knew for a fact that she was going to die in this room just as many other girls must have before her.

**You're strong, Hermione. Don't let them break you. They're trying to destroy you. **

Ron slowly walked through the house, ignoring his family as they stared at him – Harry whispered something to Ginny, but Ron didn't care. He **knew **he looked terrible, he **knew **his hair was a mess, he **knew **his eyes were bright red from crying and he **knew** he looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks.

He knew all of those things, and he knew Hermione would insist on patting down his hair, telling him he was a mess. But he didn't care. Hermione wasn't with him anymore, and she was the only thing that mattered to him right now.

"She's going to be okay," Harry muttered, biting his lip when Ron turned around to frown at him; Ron noticed Harry looked almost as bad as he did, obviously blaming himself for this whole mess and if Ron was honest, he kind of blamed his best friend too. But at the same time, it was nice to know that he wasn't the only one breaking down over this.

"I really hope so." He whispered, looking down and shaking his head, "I want her here with me so bad, I don't think I can do this whole thing without her." He sighed and sat down, looking to his best friend for help.

"She's strong.. she's intelligent... she'll find her way back home, she'll find her way back to you." Harry forced a small smile onto his face as he spoke, standing up. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm here, Ron.. I'm here for you and anytime you want to go out and look again, I'll come with you – no matter what time in the morning it is, no matter where you think to look. Anytime. Anywhere." Ron smiled gratefully and nodded, muttering a thank you before watching Harry walk out with Ginny.

"**When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back." **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: See last chapter. **

Hermione jumped up when the door finally opened after what seemed to be days, her eyes taking a while to adjust to the new source of light that met her eyes. She bit down on her lip as she looked up at the large man that she didn't recognise from before. "Come." He pointed his wand at her and beckoned for her to walk out of her cell, she nodded slowly as he watched her struggle to get up. She sighed, more and more tears falling from her eyes as she shook her head; trying to tell him she couldn't move.

"Draco, help her." He looked behind him to the smaller, pale and blonde boy she knew so well; Hermione stared at him – fear instead of hatred creeping up through her body. He walked to her, kneeling down, "It's going to be okay.." He whispered, looking behind him to make sure the other men couldn't hear him before looking back as his eyes met hers, smiling a little.

"I'll look after you.." He put his fingers to his lip and moved his hand down to her wrist, looking behind him, "We're going to need some bandages for her wrists." He told the man behind him, wishing he didn't have to stick to the strict instructions of no magically healing the girl in front of him. Hermione looked up at him, unable to stop the tears falling down her face.

"Come on, your father wants her cleaned up before he meets her properly." Hermione felt her heart drop at the thought of Draco not being her master – she hated him, of course she did, but he showed her the biggest amount of kindness since she had been captured. "How do you feel?" Draco asked her as he lifted her up, walking out of the cell she had been kept in for what seemed to be an eternity. She shrugged a little and then looked down at her wrist, a tear falling when she saw the deep cuts caused by the restraints.

"Don't worry, it'll just be a light scar after a while." He smiled down at her, walking her up the stairs as she nodded and bit down on her lower lip, trying to make the tears stop.

"Right, I'm going to get you cleaned up." He whispered to her gently, putting her on the ground when they walked into a bathroom. He told her to take off her clothes before checking the bath was warm enough for her. "I can take it from here," He told the other two men as they nodded and shut the door behind them as they walked out.

"I'm going to make sure you get out of here alive.." He murmured to her as he closed his eyes, lifting her into the bath. He sighed, wiping away the tears from her face when her wrists hit the warm water. He shook his head and smiled at her gently, "I haven't been able to help the other girls but I'm going to sure you get back to your boyfriend.." He spoke quietly, making sure only she could hear him.

Hermione nodded, staring at the water as it turned a light shade of brown from a mixture of all the dried blood and dirty, "P-Promise?" She whispered, watching him as he washed her hair, "I promise." He muttered, looking up when the door opened.

"Here's the bandages," A gruff voice chucked some bandages at him before shutting the door again. Draco nodded, looking at Hermione, "Let's get you out of there." He closed his eyes once more, lifting her out of the bath to avoid embarrassment for the both of them – she was the girl he had called mudblood for years, but at the same time, the war was _over. _The war was finished and done with; he had given up the fight, he only wished the others had too.

Hermione looked at the fellow teenager; trying to smile a little, thinking of how there was now a chance of her leaving this place she hated already, the place where nothing but bad memories from the war had stored. She thought about the chance that she might get out of here.

~ .. ~

Ron sighed and looked down at the photograph he held in his hands, tears hitting the frame as he shook his head, moving his fingers up to trace the smile on her face, more and more tears falling down his face as he thought about Hermione Granger – the girl who had stolen his heart.

He had been looking, he had been looking everywhere he knew to look and yet there was **nothing,** no leads and nothing to go on – she was gone without a trace, and he had no idea what to do or where to look. But he couldn't just give up on her, he'd never stop looking. He couldn't cope with the thought of losing her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: See last chapters. **

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, gulping a little as she shook her head, tears threatening to fall down her pale and bruised face. She looked down at the rags she had been given, realizing that she was not only going to be treated like a slave, but she was going to look like one too – she was a human house elf.

She sighed and held up her hands, looking at the heavily bandaged wrists, wishing she could understand the non-magic rule. She shook off the tears that had managed to find their way down her face, promising herself she wasn't going to cry – she wasn't going to let him win.

"Master is ready for you, now." She nodded and turned away from the bathroom mirror, taking Draco's arm when he extended it for her and walked slowly beside him through the large mansion. Her legs shook beneath her but she closed her eyes, biting down on her lower lip in a small attempt to ignore them and carry on walking, despite her senses going wild and telling her to run. _Run. Run. Run. Run. _

She inhaled before Draco's hand reached in front of him, pushing open the large door in front of them. Her breath shook when she finally released it and looked at the man in front of her now, the man she would be forced to call 'master'. The death eater who had probably killed a majority of her friends.

She watched as he walked towards her and reached out for her face, stroking her cheek delicately with his rough fingers. She kept her eyes closed, focusing on every breath she took, biting down hard on her lower lip to stop the tears falling down her face.

She opened her eyes when she felt Draco leave her side, and instead the master's calloused hands replaced Draco's on her arm. She looked at him and then at Draco, trying her best to pretend she didn't like either of them touching her – she hated both of them, she had to remember that. But at the same time, she had to remember that Draco was her only escape.

"She's perfect," The older man finally said after a few moments of intense silence, he nodded in approval of Hermione and then smirked. She looked at the greying haired man and sighed, looking down at the floor as she felt more tears bubbling up inside her – _don't cry, Hermione. Don't let him win. _

"I am very glad you approve, Sir." A man to the right of Hermione replied, bowing his head slightly and then glaring at the girl as she looked over at him, shaking. "You shall bow when you see me from now on." Malfroy looked at her and nodded, waiting for her to do as he asked. Hermione finally got the hint, bowing and glaring at the floor as she did so.

"This is what all mudbloods should be used for, I think we're going to be starting a very good business now that the dark lord is gone, Draco." He looked over at his pale soon, motioning for him to come forward, smiling when he did so. He wrapped his arm around the younger boys shoulders and made him look at Hermione, "Look at what we have started."

He walked over to her once again, stroking her hair gently, "Good girl. My good girl." He shook his head, laughing a little before turning around, motioning for everyone to get out of the room to leave the two of them alone.

He looked at her when everyone left, "If you're a good little mudblood, I might let you live."

"I bet you say that to all your slaves." She spat back at him, having no idea where the courage came from. She raised her head so he could see the hate in her eyes,

"Not all of them, no. You're special. I don't _want _to hurt you." She shook her head and looked at him, her confidence going as she whispered, "You already have.." She turned her head to look at the blank wall instead, letting the tears fall down her face at last.

"And I am very sorry for that, but I promise that you will enjoy your stay with me."

"Don't count on it." She whipped her head back to look at him again, staring him straight in the eyes and shaking her head, "You disgust me – the war is over! You lost. Your master is gone, and you're nothing compared to him and only the lowest of the low would ever even think about doing what you're doing. You're going to get caught, you're going to go exactly the same way your precious master did." She smirked at the shock on his face, trying to keep calm and stop her body from shaking.

"I can make this a hell for you, or I can be nice." He warned her, shocked when she shrugged, "It's already a hell." He nodded, before raising his hand to slap her hard across the face, sending her flying to the floor, clutching at the burning wound as she looked up at him.

"You will not answer back to me in the future, do you understand, mudblood?" He glared down at her, his eyes widening when she shrugged again, the anger flaring up in his eyes before his hands clamped down onto her hair and drag her across the room. It took every ounce of strength for her not to scream in pain – she knew it was what he wanted.

"On your knees, now!" She nodded, knowing it was in her best interest to obey him right now. But she regretted it the moment he stood behind her, hearing him whip out his wand. She closed her eyes, trying to think of something that could make her happy, biting down to stop herself from screaming, tears falling down her face when he screamed, "Sectumsempra!"

"You will never disobey me again!" She nodded when he screamed the curse again, closing her eyes as tight as she possibly could. She could feel the heavy amount of blood dripping down her back, hitting the floor in big droplets.

"What do you say?" He moved to face her and looked down at her, "Yes." She murmured as he slapped her across the face.

"Yes, what?" He slapped her again, and Hermione finally looked up, making eye contact with the evil man in front of her, not being able to believe such a person should even be allowed a wand. You'd never give a psycho muggle a gun, willingly.

"Yes.. master." She whispered, finally collapsing and letting the darkness engulf her at last.

~ .. ~

"You shouldn't have done that." Draco looked at the girl from his seat across the little cell and shook his head, standing up to walk over to where she was laying. She took time to open her eyes, trying to focus on his face and then shaking her head, tears dripping down her face and falling onto the hard mattress she had just woken up on.

"You have to make this easier for me, you have to work with me here, Hermione." He whispered, sighing.

"I don't know what came over me.."

"I know.. it's okay, just.. make sure it doesn't happen again – I need to get you out of here but I will never get the chance to do so if you carry on acting like you did last night." She nodded, apologizing as he shook his head and smiled, "It's okay, just go back to sleep, you need it." She nodded, biting down on her lower lip, closing her eyes once more as she tried to think past the stinging pain that kept shooting through her body.

Draco watched her, shaking his head, he wanted to help her and he needed to help her. He looked back at the door and sighed, she was the youngest – and possibly the most famous – slave that his father had asked for, she had so much to live for and he needed to make sure she would make it out of this hell alive. Even if it killed him.

He looked down at the floor as a lone tear fell down his face, he had seen so many people die and he couldn't leave, he felt a bond to these girls that his father – the master – longed to keep all the time. His own mother had been one so long ago, she was lucky, she made it and she was okay. Draco remembered wishing this desire his father felt would end after the war, but even though the war was over, the fight wasn't.

The thing that hurt the most, though – he had vowed to help every single one of them, and every single one of them had been murdered right in front of him. He had failed all of them, he saw the hate in their eyes for the last time before they dropped down to the ground. He didn't want it to happen to Hermione Granger – the brightest witch of their generation – he didn't want to see the blame or hate in her eyes, he wasn't going to fail her.

He shook his head and stood up, opening the door to the cell she'd have to stay in for so long, he could only hope she would take his advice and keep her head down. The longer she lasted, the more chance he would have to be alone with her. He could save her.

~ .. ~

The older man looked down at his hands, shaking his head – he had managed to get some of her dirty blood on him. He wrinkled his noise in disgust, going into his bathroom to wash his hands. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and smirked – he knew that in no time, Hermione Granger would be under his control and she would truly be his.

He knew this would be true from the moment he first set eyes on her, Harry Potter's best friend, the brightest witch of her age and now she was he is. From that very first time he had known she was the one.

He had her know and there was nothing anybody could do to stop him from doing everything he had dreamed of doing to the seventeen year old girl. He wondered what she was going to be like, he had never had someone so young – someone of school age – in his cells before. He had never picked anyone to be at his beck and call that was under the age of twenty.

He sighed and laughed a little, she would be perfect. He knew that she would his girl forever know, even after death they remained his. His own personal collection of slaves, not even his own master thought of a plan so good. His collection of perfect, beautiful mudbloods.

_And he was going to make sure he had as much fun with her as possible, before her time came. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: See last chapters. **

Ron looked down at the photograph he held in his hands, large tears dropping onto the photograph as Hermione waved and smiled at him. He shook his head, sniffing and wiping away the tears that seemed to have a permanent mark on his face since Hermione had left him months ago.

He bit down on his lower lip, closing his eyes as he wondered what was happening to her right now, if she was still alive. He wasn't sure which was worse – her being dead, lost forever or her being at the hands of a death eater. He shuddered at both thoughts, neither was worse, both of them were never supposed to happen – not to her, not to his Hermione.

"Can I come in?" He looked up to see the black haired boy walking into the bedroom they shared, he noticed his red eyes and the dark circles and he nodded slowly. He knew he understood how he felt, that Harry was just as upset as he was.

"That's a beautiful photograph.." He pointed at it and smiled a little as Ron nodded and traced Hermione's face as she beamed at the camera, and at him. "It was taken a few weeks before.. before we left.." He trailed off and closed his eyes, not even wanting to think about that night. He kept wondering what he could have done, what he should have done – if he had been ten minutes earlier, if he had made sure she didn't leave his side, she might still be here with him.

He sighed, shaking his head as more and more tears fell down his face, he wanted to wipe them away as he shrugged off Harry's hand on his shoulder, sighing. "You know this isn't your fault, right?" Harry raised an eyebrow, sitting next to him as he shook his head, looking up at the photograph once more.

"I just keep thinking about that night and how I could have done something different, I could have saved her..." He shook his head as Harry put his hand on his shoulder, "There was nothing you could have done, and there is nothing we can do right now to change it. Nobody blames you and I know for a fact that Hermione would never even think about blaming you."

"I guess.." He muttered, looking at the photograph again – her hair moved when the wind hit it and she was smiling, hugging Ron as he grinned at the camera. He smiled when he thought about their almost-kiss after the flash had gone off, both of them just standing there for a while in each other's arms, happy to be alone together. He wondered if it would ever be like that again, if she would ever return into his arms, if he could ever feel his lips on hers and if he would ever look into her eyes. He wondered if he would be able to tell her he loved her, and if he would hear her say those three words back.

Harry bit down on his lip, not being able to share his own guilt with the broken Ron, he watched his best friend crumble, the boy he had known this time last year being just a mere shadow of the boy that was sitting next to him right now. His broken exterior, nothing compared to the grief and guilt he was feeling on the inside.

He wondered if Ron would ever come back, or – like Hermione – he was gone, possibly forever. He shook the thought off as quickly as it come, Hermione wasn't gone, Hermione could walk through the doors one day and they'd all be able to hold her in their arms, telling her how much they missed her.

He laughed a little at the thought, thinking about all of their reactions, he'd feel guilty and would pretend like he knew she was fine all along. "What's so funny?" Ron glared at him, looking at Harry, "I was just thinking about Hermione, and if she walked in right now – how I would have reacted." Ron nodded,

"I'd run up to her and take her in my arms and promise I'd never pretend I never loved her again, and I'd never act like a jerk.. and then I would kiss her and tell her how much I missed her and how I much I love her.." Tears fell down his pale face as he thought about it, taking a deep breath, "And then I would make sure I never let her out of my sight ever again." He sighed, looking at the photograph, bringing it to his lips. He promised her in his head that he'd never let her go if she came back to him.

~ .. ~

Hermione shuddered as he walked over to her, his hand lightly grazing her pale cheek as he grinned. She shook her head and looked over at Draco, not knowing what was going to happen to her today. She'd been there for over a week now and after her last 'meeting' with the master, she had been stuck in the cell on her own for three days with nothing and nobody. She looked down at the floor, tears stinging her lifeless eyes as she thought about Ron, wondering if she could ever be in his arms again.

"You can start by cleaning this whole room." He looked around the room she had been dragged to, the huge room seemed so daunting to clean, and she didn't see why they couldn't do it with their wands. She nodded slowly, waiting for his command, making sure to do everything by the rules.

"Hand her the toothbrush.." He muttered to one of the men behind him, who nodded and handed her a small toothbrush, she looked up at him, the shock clear on her face ans then opened her mouth to say something before Draco shook his head and glared at her.

"Yes.. Master.." She whispered, bowing her head a little. She hated everything about this but she wanted to live and she had to live, for.. for Ron.

"Good girl.." He patted her on the head like a dog, as Hermione bit down as hard as she could on her lip, willing herself to stop the sly comment that wanted to bad to come out from her mouth.

"I will be back in exactly eight hours," He motioned for everyone else to follow him out of the room, as Hermione grabbed the bucket of soap and water he had left behind for her and dropped down onto her knees, sighing as she muttered to herself about pathetic men before scrubbing as hard as she could on the cold, wooden floor.

She knew there was no way she could get the whole place down in eight hours, the room was too big and the toothbrush was too small. She heaved a deep sigh, wondering if she could cry enough tears to wash the whole place clean, shuddering because she knew that it could be true.

Draco sighed as he watched her through a small gap in the door, the tears falling down her face as they landed on the floor beneath her as she tried her best to follow the ridiculous orders. He wished his father wouldn't be so hard on her, she was only seventeen after all but he knew this would be nothing compared to what she had coming. She would want this when the master was done with her – and to be honest, that was what scared him the most.

Hermione shook her head when the eight hours were up, the doors opening a lot sooner than she had realized. She stood up quickly, slightly bowing to him as he looked around the room. She bit down on her lip, as he stared at the clean floor, a small smile on her face. "You have done well." She looked over at Draco as he nodded a little, the master walking over to her and pushing a strand of hair from her face.

She tried to smile at him – remembering everything Draco told her – as he leaned towards her and gently but firmly placed his lips upon hers. She fought back the tears, knowing they would come later on when she was alone and somewhat safe in her cell. Tears were not to be shown to him, tears would never go unpunished. 

"Take her back to her cell," He muttered to someone behind him, glaring at her as she bowed one more and muttered 'master' before someone roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the door. She knew that worse would come, Draco had warned her of that much – but she had no idea what to expect from the man she hated so much.

The tears came the moment the doors were closed, falling heavily down her face as she crawled to the darkest corner of the tiny cell and curled up into a tiny, tight ball. Hot tears ran down her pale face as she bit down hard on her lip, digging her nails in deep into her exposed knees, banging her head softly on the wall.

She was careful not to make a sound but when the sobs overtook her whole body, she knew she couldn't control it anymore. The tears wouldn't stop as she clamped a hand to her mouth, telling herself the rules.

She ignored the stabbing pains of starvation.

She ignored the dry throat from dehydration.

She ignored the tears as they dripped down her face.

She ignored the blood dripping down her lip from the wound her nails just caused.

She ignored the sounds of her muffled sobs.

She ignored the laughter coming from above her.

She ignored everything because she knew that one day, and one day soon, this would be the room she was going to die in – and that was the only thing she couldn't ignore.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: See last chapters**

**A/N: This chapter contains mature themes of rape, without going into detail. So be warned. **

Hermione dropped down onto her knees as she sobbed, tears flowing heavily down her face as the man beside her yanked her arms as hard as he could before tying them tightly. She shook her head, about to scream something when he wrapped a gag around her mouth, stopping her from begging him to stop.

She knew she was being punished, that this was all her fault for saying no. She wondered what was going to happen to her, she wondered if this was going to be any worse than what she had said no to, but then again – nothing could have been worse than that.

She could feel Draco by her side, his hand on her shoulder as her whole body shook, he ignored her apologizes that were muffled through the gag, shaking his head – he knew that wasn't her fault, none of this was. "It's going to be okay." He whispered, trying to reassure her, knowing that for once he was wrong. She wasn't going to be okay and nothing would ever be the same again after this, he bit down on his lip as he wanted to tell her what was going to happen but he had no idea if it would do more harm than good.

"Get out!" He heard from the other side of the room, nodding and grabbed the other man who ran out of the room with him – both of them equally scared of his father. "I told you that you belong to me, do you understand what that means?" Hermione looked at him as he walked over to her, nodding slightly,

"Well, maybe you should try acting like you understand from now on," She nodded again, tears falling down her face as he stood in front of her, backhanding her hard as she fell to the floor she had spent the whole day cleaning again.

"You **never **say no to me! You will **never **say that again!" He screamed at her, grabbing her by her long hair as he dragged her over to the bed she had to make every single morning, the bed she had refused to lay in with him that evening, the bed she knew was going to make a whole new and different kind of hell for her.

She shook her head, screaming through the gag as she fought him off, kicking him as hard as she could. He laughed at her futile attempts to get out of the ropes that bound her hands together as he traced his rough hands over her body. "You," he placed a kiss on her collarbone, "are," he moved his lips to her chest, "mine.." he whispered against her trembling skin. Hermione closed her eyes, pretending none of this was happening, the only thought being Ron, wishing she was back home with him, in his arms.

~ .. ~

Draco took her lightly by the arm after all the ropes were taken off, biting down on his lip as he let his eyes wander over her shaking body. He knew the girl that had been at breaking point, had broken, and his father had broken the famous Hermione Granger – the greatest witch of his age.

She didn't utter a word to him all the way to her cell, she didn't cry, she didn't smile, she didn't ask for water – nothing. He wondered if there was anything left of the girl he had met on that first day at Hogwarts, but then he knew after what his father had done to her, that Hermione Granger would never return.

He watched her for a moment longer, the way her hair dropped over her face, covering up the tears he knew were now falling down her pale and bruised face. Her nails dug deeply into her exposed knees as she kept her eyes focused on the floor. He bit down on his lip, shaking his head as tears threatened to fall down his own face before he stood up and walked out, locking the door behind him.

Draco frowned, remembering all those 'mudbloods' that had come back just like her – they were never able to get over it, and even when they managed to smile, it would happen again and again and again...

Hermione Granger, the greatest witch of his age, that bossy, bushy haired girl, Harry Potter's best friend and part of the famous three that saved the wizard world.. she was gone. She had been replaced with Slave Number 76. The master now owned her in every sense of the word, and that wasn't going to change. And then he wondered – why was he even trying to save her? It was too late already, she's already gone.

"_What can you possibly want from me? Can't you see I'm already gone?" _

~ .. ~

Hermione looked away from the door when it opened the next morning, the light stinging her eyes before she could quickly close them. "Come on.." Draco whispered to her, lifting her lightly by her arm as he tried his best to forget about the way she flinched from him, the way her whole body shook when he touched her and the way she had to force herself not to cry when she saw him or heard him speak.

"The master needs you." He muttered, wishing he could set her free right now but he knew neither of them were willing to face the consequences when they got caught. He knew he had to wait for the right moment.

She didn't say anything as he took her up the steps, this time yesterday she would have made a half-hearted attempt to star ta conversation, telling him how scared she was and she would have forced a smile on her face as he promised her once more – a promise he wasn't even sure he could keep anymore.

This time yesterday she would have been taking steps back when they got to the door she knew her master was waiting behind, but it wasn't yesterday anymore, instead Hermione just kept her head down and walked through the doors with Draco, without a moments hesitation. She had nothing to lose anymore.

Draco could tell she was tired of everything, tired of fighting and hoping. He bit down on his lip when she bowed down, something she always seemed to 'forget' to do. "You may leave now." His father motioned for Draco to leave the room, he nodded and let her arm go gently, begging her with his eyes not to do anything stupid – but then he knew it probably wasn't even a question anymore – the light in her eyes was gone, the fight inside of her had disappeared as well. She wasn't going to cause any trouble anymore.

Hermione watched him leave and then looked back at the man she loathed so much, finding herself wishing he would just kill her and get it over and done with already. She was sick and tired of sitting up all night and thinking about her friends, and Ron – she didn't even know who had made it out of the war alive, she didn't even know if her best friends would be okay. She was sick and tired of clinging onto the hope that Draco was going to be able to get her out of this house, out of her own personal version of hell.

"Come with me," She took his extended hand, forcing herself not to cry as she stared down at the floor, her whole body trembling with fear. "Lay down like my good girl." She nodded, too scared to talk as she did as she was told, not even bothering to fight him. She closed her eyes, knowing what was going to happen and she thought about her life before all of this, letting her brain completely blank out what was happening. She bit down hard on her lip as she tried her best to forget any of this had ever happened, that it was all some massive nightmare that she could wake up from any minute now.

~ .. ~

Ron stared down at his food, trying his best to focus on eating and just getting on with his life – trying his best to escape the thoughts of Hermione not being here. Ginny saw the tears running down his face before he could even wipe them away, her arm automatically moving around him as she held him tight. "Ron.." She whispered, shaking her head, trying to stop her own tears.

"Sorry, I'm sorry.." He looked at his sister for a moment and then around the room before pulling away from her, ignoring the looks on his family's face before running as fast as he could out of there.

Ginny watched him leave, looking around the table and then at Harry, "I should go talk to him.." Harry stood, as Ginny shook her head, standing up too. "Let me.." She walked out of the room, going upstairs. She frowned as she walked up the steps, almost feeling the grief already, realizing not for the first time that it had been three whole months since Hermione had gone.

"I miss her too much," She stopped when she heard Ron sob, she had only seen him cry once since she could remember, and she was pretty sure that time was also related to Hermione. She was about to walk into the room when she heard the voice of her other grieving brother – George. "I miss her too.. I know it's hard for you." She sighed, knowing that Fred and George had thought of Hermione as a little sister, both of them pulling pranks and teasing her like they did to her.

"People understand when you're sad, you're allowed but.. sometimes, it feels like people think I should just forget her, just.. move on with my life. But I don't know how to, how can I give up on what seems to be a lifetime of love, for the sake of three months? I know she's not dead, George, I can feel it here.." She heard his hand thump onto his chest, and she could imagine the tears falling down his face, "I know she's not gone, I love her so much.. and you've always said, with Fred gone.. you feel like a part of you has been missing since that day.. well that's how I feel about her.. and it's not totally missing yet. It can be fixed."

"Well.. then she'll come back someday, she's going to be okay.." Ginny smiled sadly – her two big brothers reunited in losing someone they loved more than life itself.

"The Ministry said they had leads.." Ron muttered, the smallest bit of hope could be heard in his voice, none of them had ever really had much faith in the forever corrupted wizard government. "Yeah.. and they don't think she's dead right? I heard mum and dad talking about it." Ginny felt a lone tear fall down her face at the thought of her best friend being dead, her ear pressing against the door as she closed her eyes.

"No.. they just.." There was a long pause, and then something smashed, jumping back from the door, Ginny bit her lip and tried to listen to the conversation. "They think she's been taken into the bloody mudblood slave trade.."

"She's alive, though.." He whispered almost to himself, trying to convince himself that he was right.

"Of course she's alright.. and Ron, you know what Hermione is like, I bet they will send her back if she's with some low life pure blood family, she'll never give them a break. That girl is a fighter." George tried to comfort his younger brother, trying to give him a little bit of hope.

_Hermione was a fighter.. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: See last chapter. **

**Warning: This chapter has mentions, and descriptions of self-harm/suicide. **

**~ One year later ~ **

Hermione closed her eyes as she dropped down onto her knees, ignoring the pain that rushed through her whole body as the buckle end of the belt was brought down onto her bare skin. She bit down as hard as she could on her bottom lip to stop the tears falling from her eyes, sobbing slightly as she tried to tell herself that she should be used to the pain by now, even though she knew this was something she could never get used to.

She winced a little when he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back as she opened her eyes, looking into those evil eyes. "You missed a spot!" He screamed at her, spit falling onto her face as he grabbed her hair again, dragging her into another room as he slammed her face down onto the ground, grinning when she screamed in pain.

"I told you what would happen if you missed a spot, seventy-six. Didn't I?" She nodded slightly, looking at the small amount of dirt she had missed, tears falling down her face as she silently cursed herself for not checking over the room as she always did.

"S-sorry, sir.. i-it won't.. i-it w-won't.. happen again.." She managed to whisper, crying out again when her face was slammed back down onto the hard, tile floor. "You better hope it doesn't happen again, you know what happens to bad girls, don't you?" She nodded slightly, looking back up; regretting it immediately when a fist made contact with her face. She bit down on her lip, keeping eye contact with the floor, feeling his hand on her shoulder as he smoothed down her hair, smiling.

"Now, you can go back to your room for the night, my sweet angel." He smirked at the way her body shook beneath his touch, kissing her roughly on the lips as he brought her head up to face him. "Night, Sir." She whispered, standing up with great difficulty just as Draco walked in after being called in by his father – her master.

"Come on," He murmured, nodding at his father before grabbing her arm and dragging her out of there. He looked around, making sure nobody was looking or listening, "Are you okay?"

She glared at him, "Am I ever?" She sighed, never being able to forget that promise he made a year ago – a promise he had never stuck to.

"Just make sure you check next time.."

"I did! He must have.. he must have made the mess after I had finished.. just so he could punish me." She snapped at him, fed up of being told that _she _was the one who constantly made mistakes.

He whispered an apology, leading her down the stone steps to her cell, "You should be." She moved her arm from his grip, walking towards the cell on her own, ignoring him when he said goodnight.

She looked at the wall, sliding against the door, letting tears run down her face as she put her hand over her mouth to stop the sound of her sob escaping. Her whole body trembled as she just wished that he would kill her already, she could feel the blood dripping down her back still but she ignored it – it was nothing more than a regular occurrence these days. Something she hoped she wouldn't have to keep on getting used to. "I hate you." She whispered into the darkness, grabbing the tray of food that had been left for her and chucking it across the room, suddenly screaming in anger as she grabbed anything she could in the cell, throwing it all at the wall as she jumped a little when the sound of the door opening overtook her anger.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Draco looked around the tiny room, shaking her head,

"I wasn't hungry." She muttered bitterly,

"Don't do this.."

"Don't do what? Give up? Sorry.. but it's a bit too late for that, I gave up hope a very long time ago.. you know, just after I had given up on you, actually." He nodded, biting down on his lip as he heaved a deep sigh,

"He's going to go mad."

"Good, maybe he'll actually kill me this time." Draco shook his head and moved over to her, stopping when she took her head, "Get out of my.. room.." He nodded, quickly leaving the room and slamming the door behind him, knowing how much trouble she was about to get in.

Hermione took a deep breath as she looked around the room, her eyes settling on the broken glass as she smiled. "Well, if you won't kill me.." She whispered to the cell, grabbing it and huddling in the corner, not thinking of anything else as she brought the glass down onto her wrist, wincing as she dug it as deep as she could into her pale skin.

She could see the darkness taking her into it's safe arms, just moments later, the blood dripping heavily from her wrist and onto the mattress, "Ron.." She whispered, before closing her eyes, wishing that this would be the last time she'd see the cell that had held her captive for so long.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, see last chapters!**

**A/N: Sorry it has been so long, for those of you who live in the UK I had my A Level exams and revising for them was pretty tough. So, to make up for it.. here is an extra long chapter. **

Ron looked down at his hands, tears running down his pale face as he looked over at the photograph in front of him. He looked at her smiling face, the wind blowing her hair as she laughed. He had been staring at the photograph for a good ten minutes before Ginny had walked in, he just couldn't believe it had been one year already. His head shook at the thought, a whole year without Hermione. One whole year without hearing her laugh, without her bossing him around, without hearing her voice. He would do anything just to forget she was gone, he would do anything to hear her laugh and see her smile.

Ginny was next to him in a second, looking down at the photograph as tears ran down her own face, "I know it's hard, Ron, but don't... don't let this get to you so badly.. she would never want you to do this to yourself." He nodded a little, closing his eyes as he tried his best to stop himself from crying.

He finally whispered, keeping his eyes closed, "It's too hard..." He wanted to pretend like none of this was happening, he wanted to stop thinking about Hermione Granger; the _only _girl who had his heart completely and fully. The only girl he would go to bed thinking about, and wake up after dreaming about her. Hermione was the only girl he would happily hold in his arms for hours on end and never get bored... she was truly the only girl for him.

He sat there for a while longer, staring at the photograph in front of him but never really seeing anything as tears blurred his vision once more. He had no idea how he had managed to cope so long without her, he hadn't even realized it had been one year even though every single day without her was hell and they just seemed to drag on. And he would always remember the day she was taken like it was yesterday.

The memory had burned it's way into his mind, there to stay forever. The memory of the one girl he loved being taken away from him in such a cruel way. He almost found himself wishing they had something to go on, even sometimes – although he would never admit this to anyone – he just wished he would get a call from the ministry telling him they had found her dead body. **Anything, **anything would be better than the waiting, the nightmares about what could be happening to her right there and then. The thinking always hurt the most; was she dead? Was she alive? Was she okay? Was she safe? Was she thinking about him?

Thoughts constantly ran through his mind, often finding himself staring into space suddenly as he thought about what was happening to her at that very moment in time, how she was feeling, what she looked like, how badly she was hurt... Hermione Granger never left his mind... or his heart.

He looked at his sister once more as she reached out for the photograph, also showing him the Daily Prophet, "One year anniversary of missing witch, Hermione Granger – one of the famous trio." She muttered to herself, reading the whole story page before sighing deeply, biting down on her lip."

"I should have protected her.." Ron whispered, looking up at her and shaking his head,

"You couldn't have done anything, they were too powerful, neither of you were expecting to be attacked. We thought it was over." She flicked her hair back, quickly standing up, "Now, if you excuse me.. I have to go _pretend _like everything is okay."

Ron nodded in understanding as he watched her walk away, newspaper and photograph in hand, "I am sick of pretending." He muttered to himself, closing his eyes as he pictured Hermione being in his arms once more, and only then could he stop pretending like it never hurt him, only then could he tell everyone exactly why he aimed a spell at them one day, and why he threw his food at his brothers once, and why he felt the need to shout and scream at every single person every time he caught someone even looking at him.

It wasn't because he didn't care, no... it was because he cared too much. And he hated it.

~~~ … ~~~

He remembered screaming when he entered the cell, looking at the tiny girl in the middle of the floor as blood fell heavily from her wrist. He should have seen this coming, he should have known this was going to happen but instead he had carried on like nothing was ever going to happen to her, even though it already had.

He hesitated just for one moment, briefly considering letting her die – it was, after all, what she wanted, what she longed for, what she had been aiming for. But as quickly as the thought had come, he pushed it away because he knew for a fact he could not let her fade away, not like the others. He was not going to let her become another part of his father's collection, another part of the girls he had broken.

Because, his father had never actually _murdered _a girl, he had just drove them to despair until they killed themselves. At the moment, Hermione had lasted longer than any of those before, but he knew that it wouldn't last long and now here she was; dying, broken, fading.

Hermione Granger had gone, he knew that much for sure. The only thing he didn't know was if she had been gone forever, would she return once she was back home? Would she be the Hermione he remembered if she was in the arms of the people she had been so cruelly snatched from?

He ran over to her, holding her wrist as tight as he could before shouting for help, looking down at her pale face. "You may have given up on me, Hermione, but I haven't given up on you yet." He whispered, trying his best to stop the tears from falling. He knew better than to show emotion, he knew better than to show any sort of connection with the girl. It would not be good for either of them,

"You have to be okay." He muttered, rocking back and forth a little as he waited for someone to come and stop the bleeding that was already seeping through the blanket he had placed there.

"What happened?" He looked up at the man who had just walked in, shaking his head and glaring at him,

"What do you think happened?"

"Another one?" Draco shook his head, "No.. we're going to save her." The man – Michael – nodded and walked over to them, nodding for Draco to let go and get some stuff from the first aid kit. They knew magic would have been the best bet, but their fear of the master came first. They had been banned from using magic – healing or not – on the girl. On all the girls. After all, mudbloods and muggles don't deserve to be healed with magic, only in muggle ways.

Both of them knew they couldn't cope with losing another, not this one. Both of them would do anything to make sure she was okay. She was going to get out of this hell.

~~~ … ~~~

Ron walked into the kitchen, exchanging a look with Ginny for a second before glaring at everyone in the room. He could practically see them wince, knowing what mood he had woken up in already. Everyday went like this, everyone knew how to stop the boy they loved from acting this way, but nobody believed Hermione would ever return.

He snapped at everyone who dared to look at him.

He glared at everyone he looked at.

He grabbed some food, always picking some fruit to remind him of the girl he loved. Just a momentary reminder of her, a small connection. And as he sat down, he would do the same everytime, just sit there and stare at his plate as he thought about Hermione.

'Glare, snap, ignore everyone, pretend you don't care. It's the only way.' He had a plan, he followed it every single day and it wasn't going to stop. It would never stop until the day he held her in his arms – and he knew that day would come – it was just a matter of waiting.

So that was exactly what he did, Ronald Weasley kept to himself and waited for that very day when he could look into those beautiful eyes, and know she was safely in his arms. He clung to the hope she would be okay, she was alive because when everything else is lost, hope is all you have.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: See past chapters. **

It had been too long.

Two years to be exact.

That's seven hundred and thirty days.

One million, fifty one thousand, eight hundred and ninety seven point fifty three minutes.

Sixty three million, one hundred and thirteen thousand, eight hundred and fifty one point nine seconds.

And believe me, I have counted.

There are only twenty four hours in one day, but for me, that's twenty four hours of pain and suffering. But then again, it's probably nothing compared to what she could be going through right now.

It's the two year anniversary today, and as I look at myself in the mirror I wonder where all the time went because even though every minute without her is agonizing, it's gone too quickly. And because every single second of the day she is gone, it's one step closer to everyone believing her to be dead. Because I don't want that to be true, she's not dead... she cannot be dead. And even though everyone else thinks it, even though a service has been held for her missing, _alive _body, even though everyone completely hammers it into my head every single day, I still refuse to believe it.

My Hermione is not dead.

She's just... gone.

Where? You may ask.. well, I don't know but I know for a fact she's still out there, somewhere...

People look at me strangely when I am the only one who believes in something that is seemingly impossible but when you love someone, when you love someone more than anyone else in the entire world.. when you love someone more than life itself, then you just **know **when they're dead.

Which is why Harry and I are the only people left who are still looking, still hoping, still waiting, still dreaming. People ask how we know she's okay, how we know that she is alive, and I tell them the same thing every single time - I feel her. I see her. I almost hear her sometimes. I just _know. _

Dreams – my dreams are filled with her laughing and smiling, but other times I wake up sweating and crying as I can feel the pain she is going through. I find myself in a dark, small cell with chains around my arms and legs as I lay on the cold, concrete floor. Pain throbs through my body as I try and close my eyes, forgetting about the day ahead of me and just focusing on the one thing I want more than anything else – my freedom.

And then I wake up, and although I have never seen the girls face, I know it's her. I know it's Hermione.

She is alive.

I know she is.

~ .. ~

The light stings your eyes as you stumble out of the building, lifting up your weak arms to cover your face as you try to get used to the sudden turn of events. One minute you're laying on the cold floor of your small cell, chained up and bleeding and the next you're being dragged up the stairs quickly as someone grabs you in their arms and takes you outside.

Outside? Surely that must mean you are free. Free from pain, free from grief, free from _him. _But then you find yourself wondering if you are ever going to be free from that, because memories live on and sometimes memories can be so much stronger than the actual event.

Hermione agrees with that more than anything, sometimes she would find herself in a daze, never really understanding what was going on, never knowing what to do, where she was, who to be. Sometimes, she would find herself waking up and forgetting, and sometimes she would look around her tiny cell and just accept it as her life from now on.

But memories, memories are different. Memories can either play out in vivid shots, causing you to stumble a little in shock, causing you to shake your head in disbelief as you think back to that time, causing you to bite down on your lip in wonder or they can blur into one and hit you in just a second.

Memories are awful things if you think about it, memories hurt, memories stay, memories always find a way back to the front of your mind. You can **never **forget.

She thinks about running back, accepting her life as a slave and awaiting for the day he kills her or lets her die. She thinks about pulling out of his arms and going back into the house, running down the stairs and inside her cell, locking herself in there so she cannot be taken away from the life she has become so accustomed to.

But something makes her stay, something makes her move her arm from her face and look up at the blue sky – marvelling at the beautiful, perfect sky. She starts to notice things she never had before; the odd butterfly roaming past, or the small flowers in bloom, or the way the clouds changed just a little.

She had missed the way everything felt as well, the breeze lightly tickled her exposed skin, leaving goosebumps as she shivered a little, curling up into a tight ball in the persons arms.

To live or to die?

To stay or to run?

She wanted Ron, she knew that much, she needed to see him again, she had to kiss him once more, she had to be in his muscular arms. She needed him more than she had ever needed anyone, or anything.

She heaved a deep sigh, closing her eyes to the world as she thought about everything that had happened over the two years. Tears fell from her eyes as she thought about how much she could have done instead, how much time had been wasted. She thought about who she could be right now, where she could be in her life. Would she be married to Ron? Would she be working for the Ministry? Would she have found her parents? Would she be anything?

She held in a sob, her hand leaving her side to clamp over her mouth as she tried to stop herself. Two whole years had come and gone, and now she wasn't Hermione from before. She was Hermione; another victim of war, a victim of the fight between dark and light. Nothing would ever be the same. She would never be the same.

She had managed to convince herself Ron had moved on, she would knock on his front door and his girlfriend would answer, grinning at Hermione as she told her it was too late – Ron had moved on. She had imagined the whole scene in her mind so many times when she was locked in that cell. Ron would shake his head and tell her that she couldn't have expected him to wait forever, and she would run off, wishing she had just died.

Death; it was a funny word, something that no longer scared her but as the same time, the whole prospect perplexed her. Did she want to die? Did she want to live? She had decided a long time ago, after her fourth suicide attempt, that she didn't want to do either. Something was telling her to live, something was stopping her from dying but at the same time, she was stopping herself from living. But, why would she want to live when there is no life beyond the four walls she found herself trapped in? Why would she want to live when all that awaited for her was pain, pain and more pain.

Tears would fall.

Blood would pour.

Screams would echo.

Shouts could be heard.

But inside those four walls, she was safe, nobody could hurt her apart from herself. Nothing would get to her. She would cover her ears, close her eyes and curl up in a ball until someone came for her the next morning. She was safe for a few hours. And she was afraid, she was afraid that all of it would be taken from her. Safety would leave, and more fear would replace it.

She bit down on her lip as they came to a stop, ignoring the voices she could hear as she thought back to her seventeen year old self. She had dreams, hopes, aspirations. This Hermione had nothing, she just had a past, a present and no future. This Hermione would never make it on her own out there, she wasn't going to make it past the first day without someone holding her up.

She wanted to feel loved, she wanted to be safe, she wanted to love someone. She needed all the normal things but how could that happen when you're stuck in a continual time loop, always remembering the sound of that belt cracking down on your back? The sound of your torturers moans of pleasure playing in your mind over and over again, like a broken record? How could you forget the past when it is what made you who you are? How can you have a future when you feel this worthless? This helpless?


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. See previous chapter. **

Ginny and the Weasley's ran up the steps to the small cottage her brother lived in, tears running down her pale face as she grabbed her set of keys in her shaking hands and opened the door. She couldn't believe it, she couldn't believe that her best friend, the girl she considered to be a sister was finally safe, was finally home.

Her whole body trembled as she ran up the stairs, her heart beating quickly as she ran into Ron's bedroom, a gasp escaping her mouth when she saw Hermione laying in his arms. Her hand flew to her chest, ignoring the tears of relief and gasps from behind her as she took just one moment to take it all in – Hermione was alive. It had been over two years, with only two people ever believing that she was still out there somewhere – her and Ron. And here she was, safe.

"Hermione?" She finally cried out, the tears refusing to stop falling down her face as Ron gave her his first real smile in so long. He bit his lip as Hermione looked up at her friend, "Ginny?" She whispered, a tear falling from her eyes, trailing down her pale and bruised face.

Ginny nodded and ran up to her, wrapping her arms tight around her, "I never gave up, Hermione, I never gave up." She sobbed, holding onto her.

"T-thank you.." Hermione closed her eyes, thinking about how long she had waited for this day, how long she had been waiting to be surrounded by the people she called family, for Ron to tell her that he loved her, and that he had waited for her. She was home, and she was happy. And she wished she could forget the past.

Her fingers curled around Ginny's top as she sobs took over her body, thinking about how she finally got away after two years of pure torture, pain and hate. She never thought this day would come, it was something she could only dream of when she was down in that cell. It was something she had imagined, wrapping her arms around herself as she thought about how nice it would be to have someone hold her.

Ron looked on as his family welcomed Hermione back, smiling wide at the thought of her being back home with him – back where she belonged. He thought he would wake up, and this would all be a dream but she was still here, his family finally believed him.

Two years. He looked at the family who had believed her to be dead a long time ago, smiling at them genuinely for the first time in so long, letting them know that he forgives them. He forgives them for forgetting, he forgives them for telling him she was dead when he could still feel her, he forgives them for not believing in love.

Finally, she believed she could make it through, she would never be able to forget the person she was forced to call 'master' and she would never be able to ignore the scars, but it would get easier. She had Ron, who loved her so much. She had been so sure he would have given up on her a long time ago, just like she had given up on herself, but instead he stuck by her, and never let her down – she wasn't about to let him down now.

She was going to make it through, she would make sure of it. If not for herself.. then for him.


End file.
